


Go to Sleep

by Anam_Writes



Series: The Immortal Family [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:02:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25040593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anam_Writes/pseuds/Anam_Writes
Summary: One time claude fails to get his son to sleep and one time he almost does.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Series: The Immortal Family [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813489
Comments: 32
Kudos: 72
Collections: A Merry Kind of War





	Go to Sleep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maddy02](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maddy02/gifts).



> Muahahahaha

This was difficult to do alone. That knowledge weighed in Claude’s stomach like stones as he rocked baby Jeralt in his arms. 

Byleth had managed to sleep for the first time in over twenty-four hours and Claude would not wake her to help him soothe the tired baby. 

In theory, he had all he needed to get the baby to sleep: a warm, full bottle of breast milk, his favourite blanket, that trick with a hand running over the baby’s face his father had taught him. Still, Jerry would not sleep. 

He screamed and wailed like Claude was a stranger - and the Almyran King supposed in many ways he was, refusing to even calm despite the gathering crust and weary blink of his eyes that told his father that he needed nothing so much as rest. 

Claude had only just arrived a week ago to meet his firstborn. It might be too soon to expect the child to accept his help in going to sleep. It may have been too late to form that early attachment he read was so important for babies. It may have been any number of things, but regardless, it was disheartening. 

“Claude?” A voice, soft and crackling, came from the door. He turned to see Byleth standing in the entrance to the nursery, blinking off sleep and tilting her head. “You could have woken me.”

He was about to protest, proclaim she needed her sleep; he could handle it. 

He could do no such thing when she took little Jerry from his arms. She silenced them both in the one easy motion, cooing over their child as he wriggled and fussed only the slightest bit. 

“There now,” Byleth whispered. “Get to bed, Claude. I’ll be there in a moment.”

He did as he was told. Padding barefoot through the Palace of Derdriu to Byleth’s apartments, utterly defeated. 

…

The lodge at the end of Crown territory - the former Riegan estate - was quiet. All residents slept soundly in their beds. Well, except one. 

Jerry slipped from the nursery, tip toeing so as to not to wake baby Esther in the crib beside his bed. Then, quiet as a mouse, he made his way down the hall to his mother’s room. That door, being much heavier than the other, creaked. Even with the care he took the sound came out sharp. 

A shadowy head perked up from his mother’s bed, one that was clearly not hers. 

“Jerry?” His mother’s ‘guest’ for the summer, King Khalid of Almyra, was groggy as he sat up. 

Usually he was used to his ‘Uncle’ Claude being a much sharper, more graceful fellow. He wondered if, one day, he might not be able to use that waking slowness for a trick of some kind. 

“What are you doing up?” Claude yawned, stretching his legs out before kicking them over the bed and standing. 

“Where’s Mama?” Jerry asked as Claude approached. 

Claude adjusted his rumbled night shirt over billowy white bloomers cutting off at his shin. Jerry smiled, suppressing the urge to giggle a little at the mighty Khalid the Unifier being so very...not mighty. 

“Mama’s working late.” Claude sounded as annoyed at that as Jerry felt. It made him more receptive to how eagerly the next sentence came. “Maybe there’s something I could help you with?”

“Mama hasn’t tucked us in properly,” Jerry told him. “She always tucks us in, tells us a story, then gives us goodnight kisses.”

“I see,” Claude nodded. “Is Essie awake too then?”

“Just me,” Jerry answered. 

“Then you’re an envoy on behalf of you both.” Claude reached out, fingers ruffling through Jerry’s dark curls. “I’m so proud. My boy’s first diplomatic mission.”

Jerry blinked, looking the King over once more before turning to leave.

Claude cleared his throat. “And where do you think you’re going?” 

“To wait for Mama outside her office,” he said, turning to look over his shoulder. 

“It’s nearly midnight, Jerry the Hairy,” Claude approached the boy, running his fingers through his curls with a more singular, gentle stroke. “I’ll tuck you in.” 

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Jerry frowned. 

“I can a little,” Claude winked. 

Jerry pouted as the King ushered him out the room. Instead of heading straight for the nursery, though, Claude took Jerry’s hand and made a detour to the kitchen.

Jerry smiled when he felt big hands grab hold of him and giggled as Claude counted down. 

“One, two, three!” He lifted Jerry up in the air, bringing him over his head a second, much to Jerry’s delight, before placing him on the counter. 

“When I was your age my Maman and Baba had different things they did to tuck me in,” Claude said. “My Maman would tickle me until I was exhausted.” Claude reached a hand out to demonstrate, fingers wiggling just out of reach of Jerry’s neck as he flinched away, laughing. “My Baba used to warm up some milk and put in a touch - just a touch - of chamomile.”

Jerry waited with the King for the milk to begin steaming. Claude let him waft the chamomile just before dropping it in. 

“I wish I had a Baba like you,” Jerry said, kicking his feet and watching them bounce against the wood cabinets. “But everybody says me and Essie are im...immam...immank - ”

“Immaculate,” Claude said. 

Jerry nodded. 

Claude set down two cups. Jerry felt drowsy just watching the steam rise as they were being poured. 

“People say a lot of things,” Claude said. “But you’re a smart boy, Jerry. I’ve seen you asking questions. Regardless of what’s true, though, I want you to know your mother and I love you and Esther very, very much.”

Jerry took the drink as Claude offered it. It felt warm and big in his hands. “I love you too, Uncle Claude.”

They sipped their tea until it was done. 

Quiet had never felt so comfortable to Jerry. It was the first time he learned that he actually very much enjoyed the quiet. He knew how his mother must have felt in those moments she stepped away to gaze out the window with her pine tea. Jerry always thought she looked sad, but she may very well have been happy, like he was now. 

“Alright,” Claude announced as he took Jerry’s empty cup from him and placed it next to his own. “It’s time for bed.”

“No.” Jerry rubbed his eyes, trying to keep them from feeling so heavy. “I want to stay up and drink more tea with you.”

“We have a long day tomorrow,” Claude said. “Lots planned. You’ll need a good night’s sleep.”

“No,” he repeated. 

“Jerry -”

“No!”

Jerry stood up on the counter, almost falling with the force of the motion. Claude caught him as quickly as Jerry stumbled and brought him down to his feet on the floor. 

“Use your indoor voice,” Claude said. “People are sleeping.”

“You only get to tell me what to do a little!” Jerry says. “You’re not my Baba! You just like to show up and pretend to be! Uncle Claude, you’re a fake Baba!”

He could feel the weight in his eyes turning into hot, burning water that flowed over his cheeks.

“I want to stay up with you!”

“Oh, Jerry,” Claude kneeled. He reached out his arms but before he could pull Jerry in a loud voice rang through the entire lodge. Esther was crying. 

Claude sighed. “I’m sorry.” 

Jerry cried as Claude picked him up, held him tight to his shoulder. He walked back to the nursery, the shoulder of his shirt dampening with Jerry’s snot and tears. 

Jerry was unsurprised that his mother, going to check on Esther, intercepted them in the hall. 

“What’s wrong?” his mother asked. “Are the kids alright?”

“They’re fine,” Claude said, patting Jerry’s back reassuringly. “Jerry the Hairy was just having a hard time getting to sleep and has a lot on his mind.”

Somehow, Jerry found it even harder to keep calm when Claude handed him over to Byleth. 

“Claude?” He heard concern in his mother’s voice. 

He could not see Claude’s face but his tone of voice sounded flat. Was he angry with him?

“We can talk about it later,” Claude said. “I think it’s best if I go for now.”

After his mother got to the nursery and soothed the crying little ones, she tucked them both in. Jerry got his quick story and his kiss on the forehead. He could not help but feel that something was missing though. 

“Will Uncle Claude hate me now?” He whimpered at his mother, sitting on the edge of his bed. 

“He could never,” his mother assured him. “Your Uncle Claude loves you more than anything in the whole world.”

Jerry’s eyes widened. Uncle Claude loved his mother a lot - everyone could see it. So if he loved him more, then…he loved him a whole lot. More than Jerry could imagine, really. 

Jerry sniffled. “Can you tell Uncle Claude I’m sorry for yelling at him? I don’t think he’s a fake Baba.”

His mother’s brow creased, her mouth fell open. “That’s...yes. I’ll tell him.”

His mother snuffed the candle before leaving and Jerry drifted off to sleep. 

He tried to sleep like his mother asked, he really did, but Jerry could still feel something missing. He lay there, in the dark of night, his sister breathing steadily in her crib, his night routine fulfilled. His stomach churned though.

It was but a few minutes, though it felt like hours, before the door opened. His heart pattered in his chest and he closed his eyes tight, sure it was his mother come to scold him for being awake. How she would know he was, though he stirred not at all and made no sound, was a mystery. She was magical, that way; she knew everything.

Instead he heard the clatter of boots, the sort he liked to hear during months Claude stayed in the castle with them. He stayed motionless as a large, warm, calloused hand rested on his head, the size of his little skull. 

“Good night, jigar,” Claude’s voice whispered. 

He felt the light prickle of his beard on his cheek as a kiss was pressed there. 

His lids weighed more all at once and he could only stay awake long enough to say, “I love you, Baba.”

He could not see, but Claude smiled down at him as he went to say goodnight to little Esther. 

“I love you too. So much.”


End file.
